the people-kennel at night
was cleared off with a high-pressure hose
at the fourth pillar of the overpass
the machine was designed
to clean off especially excessive filth
from out-of-door hard surfaces
the fella wound the cable off the reel
filled up the tank with thinned chemical
and set the nozzle to mordant level
the thing spurted out in such an enormous, strong jet
that the fella could hardly hold
the nozzle though he did so with both hands spread-legged
it wasn’t yet dried up and peppe
already pounced on the site
concerned photographers’ darling
his weather-beaten wise face resembles the old fisherman’s
the veins on his hands run above his skin
he engorges a hand-sized piece of lardy bacon
puts aside the pork-rind to chew later
his smile is hard to understand
still in his eyes you see the outcasts’
dignity so very hard to gain
he sweeps the crumbs into his palm
picks up the remaining with his fingerpads
it’s before hangover day
he has no booze-buddies though
peppe never ever gangs up
’i already turn my back on everyone’
he dries his clothes on quay-wall steps
goes to the round-the-clock shop for booze
there are no security guards there
and he’s not being watched like that
